Chapter Twelve #2
It wasn’t until the next morning when he waited at the stables for an extra half hour that he realized something was wrong.
Torex wasn’t coming. He sent someone running to check, and they returned with the news that the Prince didn’t feel like going today, and Prince Pelun could just go on his own, which was what he wanted anyway, wasn’t it?
That had clearly come directly from Torex rather than the awkward-looking servant.
Pel frowned at the man before it hit him. “Has he been drinking?”
The servant cleared his throat and didn’t meet Pel’s eyes. “I couldn’t say, Your Highness.”
Yes, then.
After yesterday’s revelation, perhaps it made sense that Torex had fallen back on his crutch, but that didn’t mean Pel had to like it.
He told the stable hands that he would be out for a ride later so that Extraordinary wouldn’t be too disappointed.
Pel hadn’t realized how much more comfortable he was with someone who wasn’t drinking until he headed up to the royal suite, not knowing how much Torex had consumed or what kind of a drunk he was. Forex got louder, more belligerent, and sometimes mean.
But Pel couldn’t leave Torex there on his own. He tapped on the sitting room door, and when there was no answer, he popped his head in, ascertained that it was empty, and headed for the bedroom, where he knocked louder.
He heard what sounded like a curse, though it was muffled, and then a growled, “Come in!”
Pel opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dark, with the curtains pulled and the fire as the only light.
Torex was lounging on the bed. His eyes glittered, and there were hectic patches of color on his cheeks.
He was wearing a nightshirt, and Pel tried not to let his eyes be drawn to the man’s legs, which were dusted with fine black hairs.
He wasn’t sure why his mind was fixating on them.
He’d seen the man without a tunic when he was training, after all.
Legs weren’t that exciting. Maybe it was the fact that he was sprawled on the bed.
Torex was holding a glass in a limp grasp, and he was propped up on pillows to recline at an angle sufficient to be able to drink. There were two bottles on the bedside cabinet.
Torex stared at Pel for a long moment, almost as though he couldn’t figure out who he was, and then he scowled.
“What do you want?”
Pel tried not to take the expression and the tone personally.
“I came to see how you’re doing. If you weren’t well enough to come to dinner or to come for a ride, I thought something might be seriously wrong.”
“Nothing whatever is wrong,” the Prince announced with very careful diction. “Everything is perfectly fine.”
He took what looked like a defiant gulp of his drink.
Pel raised an eyebrow. “If everything were perfectly fine, then you wouldn’t be moping in your room.”
“I’m not moping!” Torex snapped.
“In the dark.”
“It’s not d—”
Pel just started him down.
Mutinously, Torex muttered, “The fire is lit.”
Pel’s lips twitched. “There’s also a perfectly nice sun, and it’s right outside those covered windows.”
The clouds were patchy today, and it was actually possible to see a bit of the sky and the sun.
“I don’t want to deal with the sun,” Torex told him petulantly.
“A little too worried that it’s going to pierce your eyeballs because you’ve had a foolish amount to drink?” Pel asked with mock solicitude.
Torex frowned at him again. “It’s none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business,” Pel responded impatiently. “We’re meant to be doing something together, and you decided that drinking alone in bed was more important. Since I disagree, I’ve come here to tell you so.”
Torex was frowning again, and it looked like his jaw was clenched. “Why do you care?”
“Why wouldn’t I care?” Pel asked, now confused.
“You don’t want to spend any time with me.”
Pel… didn’t know what to make of that. Carefully, he admitted, “I didn’t at the beginning, but it’s been a while since that’s been true. I thought we were both enjoying ourselves.”
That revealed a little more than he’d meant it to, but it was the truth.
A furrow grew between Torex’s brow, like he couldn’t quite figure this out.
He didn’t seem to be a particularly angry drunk, just a bit sullen, and Pel was a bit surprised by the urge he had to take care of Torex when he was like this.
He’d learned early that it was best to minimize contact and conciliate with Forex when he had to.
He’d already told Torex he thought he was doing something foolish, and Torex hadn’t gotten angry with him.
Pel poured him a glass of water from the sideboard and brought it over to the bed. “What are you doing?”
Torex looked even more confused by this question. “Drinking. What does it look like I’m doing?”
Gently, Pel said, “It looks like you’re punishing yourself.”
Torex scowled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You told me yesterday that your brother thinks you’re useless. And now I think you’re trying to prove him right.”
Was it weird that Pel wanted to reach out and smooth the furrow in Torex’s brow? It had to be weird.
“Why would I try to prove to my brother that he was right that I’m useless?” Torex asked even as the furrow deepened.
“Because sometimes that’s easier than trying to fight back against someone’s expectations. Because that can be exhausting.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Torex muttered, but he wouldn’t meet Pel’s eyes.
“I’m the only Unremarkable in this royal family for the last 600 years,” Pel told him matter-of-factly. “My father’s belief that I’m useless has followed me everywhere and permeated everything I’ve done every day since I Manifested twelve years ago.”
Torex’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he tried to sit a little straighter, though he just sank back into the pillows.
“You are not useless!” he told Pel vehemently, eyes flashing with indignation.
Pel smiled faintly at him. “I certainly try not to be. But it isn’t easy when it’s what someone constantly tells you.”
“You have to believe in yourself outside of that person,” Torex told him earnestly.
“Yes, you do,” Pel agreed softly.
Torex was silent for a moment and then suddenly blurted out, frustration evident, “He ordered me not to drink. Or have orgies. Or to captain the guard. What does he want me to do instead? Bond with the wrong person! That’s unreasonable!”
“It must be very frustrating,” Pel agreed.
In a rather drunken whisper, Torex confessed, “Sometimes, I just want to get away from it all.”
“And you made a good effort,” Pel told him. “But the one thing you can’t ever outrun is yourself.”
Torex’s face scrunched up in distaste. “My brother told me that.”
Pel laughed softly. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean it’s not true. And it’s not my place to judge, but I’m going to do it anyway and tell you something that maybe you don’t want to hear.”
Torex let out a laugh that sounded only a little raw. “All right. Lay it on me.”
Pel confessed, “I like you better when you’re not drinking.”
Torex kept staring at him for a very long time, and then he blinked, and the furrow reappeared in his brow. The urge to smooth it away was stronger, but Pel pushed it aside.
Finally, Torex said, “That’s what you wanted to tell me?”
“That’s it,” Pel agreed. “Obviously, you have to make all your own choices. You get to decide what you’re going to do with your life and how you feel about all of it. But I still wanted to tell you.”
“That you like me better when I’m not drinking.”
Pel nodded. “There’s a little too much drinking in my life already.”
Torex’s face suddenly cleared. “I understand. I will… stop drinking.”
“Yeah?” Pel asked carefully.
Torex handed him the glass and then gestured with a sloppy wave at the bottles on the bedside cabinet. “I think there’s more.”
Pel gave him the glass of water he’d been holding.
“Drink it,” Pel instructed. “It’s water. You’re going to have a headache as it is.”
Torex sipped at it, then sighed. “I don’t miss the headache. But sometimes, I miss the fuzziness. It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s fuzzy.”
It didn’t deal with any of the underlying issues, but Pel supposed that in the moment, if it made you feel better, it might seem worth it. And if you could be drunk a lot of the time, perhaps you hoped those consequences would never come.
“It’s nice when things don’t hurt.” Pel winced at how inane that sounded. Gently, he added, “But my father has been drinking for about fifteen years, and it doesn’t seem to have fixed anything.”
Torex took another drink of the water, grimacing a little. “But if you can’t fix it, you’re kind of stuck, aren’t you?”
“There are plenty of situations we don’t have control over,” Pel conceded. “And very rarely can you change what other people think or do. But you can change how you react. You can try to make amends if you’ve done something wrong. And you can always do better going forward.”
Swallowing visibly, Torex said roughly, “I told all their families in person. Went one by one. Apologized. And made sure to send them money, so they’d all be supported. But nothing makes up for their loved ones being gone.”
“No, unfortunately, that’s not something anyone can change. But you’ve done what you can to bring them comfort and support. That matters,” Pel told him earnestly.
Torex sighed. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
It probably never would. But Torex had still done it. And then he’d floundered, not feeling like he had a purpose, until he’d finally escaped his brother and judgment and expectation by running away here.
“Look,” Pel said, “this may not be a good time, but can I say something?”
“Again?” Torex’s teasing tone was almost right. “Yes, of course.”
Pel swallowed, not sure he was doing the right thing, but he finally blurted out, “Did you find the bodies?”
Torex recoiled, flinching visibly. He rasped out, “What do you mean?”
Flapping his hands, wincing at his complete lack of tact, Pel said, “Sorry, sorry, I just—listen. Did you recover their bodies?”